“But I can’t do more,” I say. “I just…can’t.”
“Neither can I.” Athena’s hand stills on my arm. “So maybe we keep it purely physical. No dates, no commitment, no meetings outside the club.”
“No coffee dates?”
“Hmm…” Athena considers that. “How about coffee is okay but Scotch is a nay?”
I laugh, feeling a strange sense of relief at the proposal. This way, we can indulge without the weight of expectations and emotions and guilt. “That sounds good. No complications, no promises we can’t keep.” The structure feels comforting—like a contract with clear terms and boundaries. Good. This is something I know how to navigate.
“Just pleasure,” she agrees. “Nothing more, and certainly nothing less.” She shifts then and moves to hover over me. Her weight settles half on top of me as her hand finds its way under my sweatshirt. “But fuck, Ruby. I really, really want to kiss you and I don’t want to wait until we’re back at the club.”
My body responds before my mind can catch up—a forgotten language now remembered. I arch into her touch, heat flooding through me at the need in her voice. My pulse pounds in my throat as her fingers drift higher.
“You’re already about to break the ‘nothing physical outside the club’ rule,” I say, sliding my hands over her thighs. “How very hedonistic of you.” The robe falls open under my touch and my fingers find bare skin.
She makes a sound low in her throat that sends heat pooling in my belly, and the last thread of restraint between us snaps. “Well, it is kind of my brand.”
And then she claims me, because there’s no other way to describe how she moves to straddle me fully, her knees pressing into the lounger on either side of my hips. Her hands find mine, fingers interlacing for just a moment before she guides them above my head, pinning my wrists against the cushion with one hand.
Her other hand cradles my jaw, thumb pressing lightlyagainst my chin, controlling the angle as she hovers just out of reach. I strain upward, seeking her mouth, but she holds me in place, the corner of her lips curving into a wicked smile that’s equal parts tease and promise.
I want to retort, to challenge her, but then her mouth is on mine—soft, a contrast to the firm grip on my wrists. She alternates between brushing her lips over mine and pulling back just enough to leave me chasing her mouth. Each retreat makes me more desperate for her return.
How is she maintaining such control? I’m seconds from begging, from breaking completely under her touch while she plays me. The pressure of her body against mine, the slight rock of her hips—everything calculated to drive me to the edge without pushing me over.
When she finally releases my wrists, it’s only to thread her fingers through my hair, tightening just enough to hold me firmly while she kisses me again, thoroughly this time. And fuck, this woman can kiss. Her mouth moves against mine with intensity, using her lips, teeth, and tongue, knowing exactly when to be soft and when to demand more. Her tongue sliding against mine in a rhythm that makes me think of other things, other places she might apply this same devastating attention.
When she catches my bottom lip between her teeth, the sting makes me gasp, and she soothes the spot with her tongue before deepening the kiss again, setting a pace that leaves me breathless. She takes what she wants, gives what I need. Athena embodies a want that is raw and palpable, a hunger that transcends the ordinary.
I slide my hands to her hips, but she catches my wrists again and pins them back above my head with a single fluid motion.
“Don’t move,” she whispers against my mouth,and I squirm at the command in her voice. It’s a negotiation of power and she’s winning. And I’m surrendering willingly, melting against her mouth while she shows me exactly what I’ve been missing.
Athena kisses like she’s savoring every taste, drinking me in like a rare vintage wine, tasting notes that only she can detect. When we finally break apart, her pupils are dilated, making her eyes look almost black in the light of dawn. I’ve never seen her look so undone, so human.
Her weight lifts suddenly as she pushes herself upright, standing beside the lounger. I feel the loss of her heat immediately, my body still craving her.
“I should go,” she says, closing her robe. And then she just stands there looking down at me as if battling her decision. She shakes her head and lets out a soft laugh. “Fuck. What have you done to me?” Without waiting for an answer, she turns and leaves.
TWENTY-SIX
ATHENA
The espresso machine hisses as I watch the dark liquid stream into my favorite cup. I should be exhausted—I haven’t slept at all—but instead, I’m buzzing, craving caffeine before I jump in the shower.
I forgot my shoes, hat, and clothes at Ruby’s and I’m standing in my kitchen wearing nothing but her robe. I walked home barefoot, barely registering the discomfort. My mind was elsewhere, replaying every moment of that kiss in vivid detail.
Zeus watches me from the kitchen island, his tail swishing back and forth in judgment. He knows I’m not myself right now—animals always sense these things. I scratch behind his ears, and he allows it, though his golden eyes remain skeptical.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I tell him. “I know what I’m doing.”
But I don’t. For the first time in a very long time, I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing. I pride myself on always being three steps ahead, but now I’m completely adrift.
I did exactly what I swore I wouldn’t do. I kissed Ruby Walsh.
No, strike that. I didn’t just kiss her. I devoured her like the world was ending. I lost control and gave in to every primal instinct causing a current of desire I can’t shut off.
And it was magnificent.
